The Casualties of War
by Benevolent Contradiction
Summary: A family is rejected by Vault-Tec to be a resident in the safety of a Vault. All hope is lost and never to be regained. The Lone Wanderer reflects on this and makes a decision. This world will be redeemed! Oneshot.


_**Casualties of War**_

**T**he sun shone brightly in March 2077. Trees were beginning to grow their leaves once again; the scent of spring was on the breeze.

It was a normal day in the United States. It was a normal day in Washington D.C. It was a normal day for Ridgefield. It was a normal for the Benson House. Most of all it was a normal day for newlyweds Aisha and Mort.

One could not tell that a war was waging between the United States and China. Children ran freely around Ridgefield's playground and backyards. It was a paradise.

But like any paradise, it can only last for so long for it is only an illusion to cover the sinister things beneath.

The gentle creak of a mailbox closing sounded as Aisha grabbed the day's mail. The fragrant breeze teased her auburn hair. She wore a gentle smile, her ears graced with the sounds of nature and children's squeals of excitement.

She padded into her house, making her way to her and her husband's bedroom. As she walked, her finger slid between the flaps of the envelope.

When Aisha arrived to the bedroom, the envelope had been opened. She brought it into her vision. Her hazel orbs began to read. As each word registered into her mind, her eyes opened wider and wider until they could see no more from each corner of her vision.

_Dear Safety-Conscious Citizen -_

_We are writing to inform you that your family was not selected for inclusion in your chosen Vault-Tec facility. Your deposit has been returned to your specified banking account, and your application retained. In the interest of your family's security in the event of a minor nuclear event, please keep safe in any underground cellar available when notified of nuclear emergency._

_Vault-Tec wishes you and your family the best of luck and safety in the uncertain future. Best regards;_

_Vault-Tec Public Relations Dept_

_Washington, DC_

The pristine white paper slipped from her slender fingers. It fluttered to the clean rug beneath her feet. Her hands subconsciously fell to her extended stomach. A small kick met her grasp as if the growing being within understood.

And then a broken sob left Aisha's lips. She raised her hands to her face, wet crystals dripping between her fingers.

"Mort," She screamed, "Mort!"

Mort, hearing the distress in wife's voice, rushed into the room. His eyes were met with Aisha on her knees in the middle of their bedroom. He saw the glistening tears coating her face as their eyes met.

His gaze then fell to the white piece of paper on the floor. He walked over to it and picked it up.

When he finished reading their fate delivered to them by a mere sliver in an envelope, he dropped to his knees beside his wife. He wrapped his large arms around her body. His own body shook violently, one hand resting on his wife's belly.

**T**he Lone Wanderer's eyes lifted from the Vault-Tec letter on her Pipboy 3000.

She stood in the middle of a dark, dank room. The walls were a rusty yellow and looked about to fall over. The air smelled of dust.

Her gaze swept over the room. It stopped on the queen-sized bed in the middle of the room. Two skeletons laid on it. They were embraced in what would have been a loving, protecting way.

The Lone Wanderer placed a hand on her dirt covered face, shaking her head. She shut her eyes for a moment trying to forbid the emotions from leaving her.

When she reopened her eyes, her silver orbs fell on a tiny skeleton curled within the body of one of the others. It lay in between the ribs of it.

A shuddering breath left the young woman's body as her eyes widened.

Her mind then turned to the environment around her, the desolate land that she traversed daily, the angry, sad, and violent residents of the Capital Wasteland. She thought of Vault 101 and the sheltered, cowardly people within. She thought about the people who were lucky enough to have lived, their ancestors who were given a chance.

Finally, an angered scream tore out of her throat. Her fist went through the wall beside her. A new wave of hatred spilled from her, hatred for her old home, Vault 101, and for her father.

She threw her fist continuously through the wall, cries of despair leaving her lips. When she stopped, she narrowed her eyes out the cracks of the boarded up window. She looked at the family on the bed.

Then she reloaded her combat shotgun and began to leave the room, determined to make this Wasteland a better place.

She didn't care about how hard it would be.

"Come on, Dogmeat," She murmured at the canine who had sat obediently near the entrance of the bedroom with concerned eyes.

Together the Lone Wanderer and her faithful canine left the Ridgefield house. They made their way into the distance. They made their way into a better future.

A future where families could live out their lives without betrayal by their fellow humans, by mankind.

_If today was your last day, and tomorrow was too late, could you say goodbye to yesterday?_

_**A/N: Well, I got the inspiration for this after reading the notes in the mailboxes in Mindfield. I thought about how devastated the families who were rejected to be residents of the Vaults would be and how they must have thought about the future of their family every day until the bomb finally hit. **_

_**It made me rather sad and I thought that it would make an excellent oneshot. **_

_**I named the newlyweds specific and odd names because I wanted their names to mean something. If I'm correct, Aisha's name means "life" and Mort's name means "death".**_

_**I chose the Benson's House because I think that's where I found the rejection letter. I could have gotten that wrong. The quote at the end is from one of Nickelback's songs. I thought it fit perfectly for this fic.**_

_**I also edited the rejection letter. The rejection letter states that the family can still apply to other Vaults. I edited it so that they had absolutely no hope. Honestly, how many families who were rejected got into other vaults? I doubt they made it or had the money to do so.**_

_**Finally, I have the disclaimer: I do not own Fallout 3 or anything having to do with it. I do not own anything having to do with Nickelback either. The only thing I own is my ideas and this story. I am not making a profit off of this.**_


End file.
